The Creator
by Lena xo
Summary: His name is Trey. By a series of mistakes and choices he created his coven: Carlisle, Edward, Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper & Alice. But who he is and who he could be is something else altogether. AU. Part I of Vampyra
1. Chapter I: The Leader

**Chapter I**

**The Leader**

I never tried to stay in one spot for too long. I moved constantly around Europe, and changed my name regularly so that I would never be recognised.

It was in the year 1490 when I made two mistakes. My first mistake was to favour the small town of Brasov - I stayed there for too long, occupying a manor on the outskirts of the site under the guise of a nobleman. Brasov had a rather large population for most of the villages in the country, but people began to notice the disappearances of my victims. They whispered of a monster in the forest surrounding the town, being the superstitious mortals that they are. But no one seemed to realise that the disappearances happened to start at around the same time as my arrival.

No one, except one man.

My second mistake was to choose the home of this man. Carlisle was the son of the local preist, and he was the only person in Brasov who recognised me for what I truly was – a _moroii._

Or, in your language, a vampire.

* * *

The sky glowed orange as the sun finished retreating behind the horizon, but the village below were not yet asleep. All of the men were in the village square, holding everything from swords to pitchforks, flaming torches to wooden stakes. They were talking and there was shouting but everyone went quiet when the blond man came forward.

He was only young, in about his late twenties, but all the men of the village seemed to show respect to him. In his left hand he held a flaming torch too – but now he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"For three years this man who claims to be a baron has resided in our lands. And, three years ago, the disappearances of our friends, children, wives, brothers, and mothers…" his voice broke slightly on the last word, "has continued without any answers!

"But now, we go armed with the truth, to destroy the monster that has ruled us! Tonight we march to his manor to show him what we will _not_ stand by to watch evil reign!"

There came loud, raucous cheers from the men and they started beating their drums, or banging their weapons on the floor, starting a formidable drumming noise.

The pack of six hundred strong men started marching down the well-worn forest path towards the manor at the outskirts of the village. Led by the blond man, they headed into the dark cover of the forest.

The dark of the forest was broken only by the small lights held in the hands of the men. They kept marching, and kept cheering, and nobody noticed something move in the shadows of the trees behind them.

"There!" yelled the blond man as he pointed to the castle in front of them. Only one window at the topmost tower was light – everything else was dark.

The men started cheering again, but when they were within one hundred metres of the manor, above the yelling a strangled scream was heard.

There was an almost sudden silence as everyone stopped. A voice yelled out "Petyr's gone!" and murmuring started amongst the men.

Only the leader saw the flash of red in front of their eyes as, one by one, five more of the strangled, angst-filled cries filled the air, then were stopped.

Someone else screamed and men started to panic, trying to run back through the village. Through the dim light given off by the torches, the blond leader saw a body on the ground. The expression on his face was one of shock rather than pain, and the leader realised that the neck had been broken.

"It knows we're here," whispered the leader before yelling, "Continue on! We have to destroy this thing while we still can!"

Now shaking and much more cautious, the men reluctantly turned and started heading back towards the castle.

Suddenly, the place was filled with smoke. There were more, many more screams and flames started dancing out from the forest. The leader pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose and tried to run, but it came for him next.

It had red wild eyes, a chalk-white complexion and its mouth was wide opened – dripping from its teeth was blood. Too late, the leader realised his mistake as he screamed.

They never had a chance against the monster.

The monster effortlessly reached down, pulling the leader towards him almost in an embrace before plunging his fangs into the vein in the neck. The leadern screamed again, but he was thrust aside as the _moroii _sprinted off into the dark for another victim.

On the ground, the blond began to crawl, trying to get out of the smoke where he couldn't breathe, and away from the flames where he couldn't burn. As he crawled out, he realised it wasn't the flames that were burning him.

He choked back shrieks of terror as the burning started at his neck and spread all the way to his body.

Pain was not the right word for this – it was torture.

In a last ditch attempt he crawled, barely able to see, and abruptly hit something. A felled tree hollow, he dimly realised as he crawled into it. He couldn't breathe in the stuffy air within the wood but he didn't care any more.

He closed his eyes and shut his mouth, wishing with everything he had that he could just die that much quicker.

**XxX**

"What is your name?" the voice came dimly through the haze of pain.

"Answer me, human. What is your name?"

"Carlisle," he finally managed to choke out. "My name is Carlisle. Who are you?"

There was a deep chuckle. "I am your Creator. But you may call me Trey."

Carlisle was quiet. He couldn't breathe. His lungs took in the air but they weren't absorbing the oxygen.

He listened for his pulse. It was slow. Too slow. Carlisle was no doctor but he knew enough to realise that this was too wrong.

The burning pain was still in his veins, but it had receded somewhat.

"What…what…"

There was the chuckle again. "I will tell you when it stops."

_When what stops?_ Carlisle wanted to say, but now he listened. The _thump-thump_ of his heart grew slower and slower, until…

"It's stopped," Carlisle whispered. He hadn't opened his eyes yet. The burning had faded completely now, except for something in his throat.

"I know," said Trey, sounding amused. "I can hear it."

"You can hear…" Carlisle was confused when he opened his eyes. It was nighttime, and he was in the back of an open wagon. A tarp had been roughly thrown over him like a blanket, and he was surrounded by packages of clothes and some of jewellery and coins.

He knew what was in the packages because he could hear the gentle _chink, chink_ of the metal on metal in the packages.

Sitting on front of the wagon, with the reigns in his hands, was a man with a cloak wrapped almost completely around himself.

"You can hear my heartbeat?" said Carlisle. Trey chuckled again.

"Yes. I can hear everything. You can too. Listen."

Carlisle closed his eyes and listened.

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

The burn had returned, but this time it was in Carlisle's throat.

_DRINK!_ Carlisle jumped over the Trey and landed on the back of the horse that was pulling the wagon. The horse shied, neighing, but Carlisle reached forward and plunged his teeth into the neck of the beast, drinking.

It screamed in terror but Carlisle kept drinking. As he drank the burning in his throat lessened, and the horses struggles did too. Finally when his thirst was satisfied, Carlisle moved back, looking at the poor beast on the ground. Only then did he realise.

_I did it. I killed it. I've become one of _them.

Trey was clicking his tongue. "You've just lost our transport. From hereon, you can pull the carriage until I get to my next stop to buy another horse. But you'll probably drink that one too." Carlisle turned and realised that Trey's cloak was wrapped completely around him, and his hood was pulled down so low that Carlisle couldn't see his face.

"You're it, aren't you? The one we tried to kill," said Carlisle softly as the memories of that night came back to him. The screams of terror, the smoke, and the red eyes…

"Yes," replied Trey, pulling his hood back. The chalk-white skin, the dark mop of hair, and the red eyes. "I changed you. Not on purpose, of course. I bit and drained the first man, but I didn't have enough time to drink you. The others… well, I did it the simple way. I broke their necks."

"The others?" asked Carlisle, then suddenly the horror hit him. "You monster," he seethed. "You killed them all!"

Trey just laughed. "Of course. I could not allow anyone to live, or they might… spread the true story. And although humans are simple to deal with, it is still annoying when a horde comes knocking at your doorstep at midnight."

"You're a monster!" yelled Carlisle. "I won't stay with you, murderer!" He turned around, preparing to walk away.

"You don't have a choice," said Trey in an almost amused tone. "You must stay with me. I'm the only one who knows what you are… and how to handle you. Or would you rather walk off knowing nothing?"

Carlisle paused. As much as he hated Trey, he was right. He turned back around.

"Of course," added Trey lightly, "You're like me now. A monster. Unless you're going to live on those for the rest of eternity," said Trey with a laugh as he pointed to the horse's corpse on the ground.

* * *

Carlisle was my favourite out of the ones I changed. He turned out to be logical, smart, and dedicated. We travelled the country, leaving Romania and eventually heading to France. I taught him about what he was. He of course knew what a vampire was, but he needed to know the difference between rumour and fact.

For the next few years Carlisle became learned. He spoke seven languages and was an excellent conservationist. But there was one thing about him annoyed me - he refused to drink human blood, instead choosing to live exclusively on animal blood.

After three years, we met the next one who I would change.


	2. Chapter II: The Muse

**Chapter II**

**The Muse**

The next one that we met came armed with a gift. I had a gift of my own of course – but few people knew what it was, or even how it worked.

We were in my castle in the French countryside, on the outskirts of Paris. Being near a big city meant that the disappearances of my victims were nearly never noticed, unlike Carlisle's village where everybody knew everybody.

He was just a boy, only seventeen years old. He was French but his name originated from the Old English.

Edward.

* * *

Edward was shaking as he stroked his mother's face.

"Mother, please don't, please don't…"

"Sometimes," whispered his mother as she looked into Edward's green eyes, "the Lord calls back what he has given to you."

Edward was now shaking with anger. "How," he seethed suddenly, "Can you keep your faith in Him when He has taken so much from us?"

His mother smiled. "Because, my son, He has left you alive."

His shaking slowed down. "I know. I am sorry, mother." He didn't mention the fact that he now had a burning fever; or that he had been hacking and coughing for the last week; how he could not sleep at night because of the growing pain within his gut.

Elizabeth's breathing was rasping now. They had lived in this forest for Edward's whole life because of his 'condition'. When they had been driven out of the village by all the men – including Edward Snr. – it had just been Edward and Elizabeth.

Passing travellers had given news of a new epidemic within the cities. But then there were the celebrations – the sickness had passed, and all was well.

But now Elizabeth was showing all the symptoms.

And now Edward was going to lose the one person who meant anything to him.

The disease was already taking him, too, he could feel it. But he didn't want to tell his mother – she had to die happy.

Tears came to his eyes as she struggled to breathe in front of him.

Then Edward heard a _slam_ as the front door was smashed down.

He walked into the room. The light shone around his head like a halo and his skin sparkled like it was covered in thousands of diamonds. He had blond hair and his face was inhumanly perfect, and his eyes were like liquid gold.

"Angel," whispered Elizabeth, "Please_, guéris mon fils_." Then she closed her eyes for the last time.

The Angel kneeled down next to Elizabeth and gently smoothed back her hair from her face. He began whispering and Edward, still in shock, realised that he was praying.

Finally he turned to Edward, taking a deep breath in. "You are sick," he said in a velvety toned voice. Edward, his mouth slightly open, nodded, before looking down at his mother's death.

"Let me see you," said the Angel, and Edward slowly pulled off his shirt. Once the Angel saw who he really was, he would not stay.

He heard the Angel gasp, and as he turned around he felt cool, marble fingers trace the hardened mutated skin on his back. "You have leprosy?"

Edward only nodded.

"The disease has not yet travelled to your face."

"It will only be a matter of time," whispered Edward. "The doctor refused to see me, but said that after my fifth year of the disease, I would die. It is my fifth year now."

The Angel looked at Edward with a shrewd look on his face, finally reached out and took his hand. "You will come with me," he said, "And I will complete your mother's last wishes."

Suddenly Edward collapsed to the ground, a hacking sound coming from deep within his throat, and as he coughed blood came from his mouth. The Angel pulled Edward up into his arms, holding him like a child, and began to run as Edward passed out.

******

When Edward awoke, he was in a dark castle room and above him was a face. It was as beautiful as the Angel's, but it could never be mistaken for an Angel. The expression on the man's face was not good, or kind. It was calculating. And his eyes were a pure ruby red.

Edward tried to sit up and speak but as he did his body shook with the racking coughs. The man with the red eyes gently pushed him back down onto the four-poster bed.

"Now, now," he said in a deep voice. "Rest. You are here only because I allow you."

Edward did not speak, but watched the man with wide green eyes. Finally he whispered, "The Angel. Where is he?"

The man chuckled. "Your Angel is downstairs. He has begged for me to save your life because he does not have the power to do it himself."

Edward's mind raced. If The Angel was begging favours from this man, than that meant―

"Hardly," laughed the man. "I am not your God, or anyone's."

"Mind reader," whispered Edward, but the man chuckled again. "You are just like all the other mortals, so predictable in your thoughts of superstition and belief."

Edward tried to stand up, but again the man pushed him back down.

"Then you are Lucifer," Edward croaked. At this, the man's jaw dropped, but soon a smile spread across his face.

"That is a very original thought. No, I am hardly Lucifer, merely his servant," said the man amusedly. "My name is Trey. And I am here to save you."

Edward's eyes were wide, but his muscles were weak. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Trey laughed again, and to Edward's ears the sound was sinister.

Trey leaned down next to Edward's head, and the boy was frozen.

"I am here to heal you, child. But it will not be easy," he whispered as he opened his mouth and plunged his fangs into the soft skin of Edward's neck.

Edward began screaming as the venom flowed into his veins, and Trey pulled back licking his lips. He watched with a smooth face as Edward writhed, shrieking from the pain.

"Don't worry. The pain will end and when it does, you will be ranked equal with those of angels and gods…" Trey left the room, closing the door behind him.

Out in the hallway, Carlisle tensed as Trey shut the door, then walked up to him. "Did you…"

Trey growled. "Surely you can hear him scream now?"

Carlisle winced as Edward's scream, begging them to kill him, filled his ears. "Yes."

Trey chuckled. "I still don't understand why you wanted me to change him."

Carlisle shook his head. "To me he seems… different. And I couldn't do it myself. If I were to lose control…"

Trey laughed. "Yes. That makes sense, I suppose. You can nurse your boy, Carlisle, and you best have something for him to drink when he wakes up," said Trey with a malicious glow in his red eyes.

As Trey walked away, Carlisle walked into the room. He pulled a chair up next to Edward's bed and did the only thing he could do – keep Edward company. As Edward screamed for the next three days, Carlisle apologised profusely, telling him about his new life and what was going on. The guilt of watching this boy's body burn with the pain that he had inflicted weighed upon him. But every time Carlisle thought back to the boy's mother, and heard her voice in his head, he knew it had made the right decision.

"_Angel, please heal my son._"

* * *

Edward was born with the incredible gift to read people's minds. Admittedly, he could only read what was going through their minds at that very moment, but it was still an amazing gift.

At first, his was indecisive about his diet choices. Using his mind-reading ability he would hunt down and feed only on criminals – those guilty of murder or rape. But looking back now, I realise that Carlisle had instilled much too many morals and ideas of good and evil in his head. Edward ended up following the diet of Carlisle, drinking only animal blood.

He, like Carlisle, became educated; he had a particular love for music; but his belief in the afterlife for our kind was that there was none.

Edward had been with us for five years. During those years we moved from Paris to all around France, then across England, and we were travelling through Scotland at the turn of the century when we found the next to join my coven.


	3. Chapter III: The Matriarch

**Chapter III**

**The Matriarch**

When we found her, and Carlisle asked me again to save her, I thought he was just being his typical compassionate self, desperate to save any soul in danger that came his way. Passing through villages, if we wished to remain conspicuous he would claim to be a doctor – applying his theoretical knowledge to real life cases; for example in one village in west Scotland, he applied a splint to a young girl's leg, earning us a free room for that night.

But Carlisle had good judgement – he chose to save Edward, and this time he asked me to save the woman would turn out to be his mate.

* * *

We were in travelling between villages in the countryside of eastern Scotland in the year 1601. We were near the coast, at the shores of the North Sea. A storm was picking up so Carlisle suggested we stay in the village overnight, because it would be suspicious for us to be walking around seemingly unaffected in the middle of the freezing cold night.

Our lodgings were a small fisherman's hut on the outskirts of the village. It wasn't exactly the luxury I preferred, but as Carlisle pointed out, it would be the easiest to move from later on.

Little did I know, there we would meet a woman by the name of Esme and she would be but the next to join us.

Edward was tense as he paced the room. The change from human to vampire had softened his face a little, but he was still recognisable as the son Carlisle had adopted a long time ago. Bronze hair hung over his eyes as he watched the doctor.

"No," he said finally.

"Please Edward," said Carlisle. _We could pick up the man's scent. It wouldn't be that hard_, said Carlisle in his mind. Edward frowned slightly.

Two men, brothers, lived in a hut near the beach that was the only place in the village who would give the three travellers accommodation. One of the brothers had gone out in the storm to check that his boat was pulled up onto the shore far enough, and hadn't returned. The man in the hut had begged them to come with him to find them.

"Fine," said Edward through gritted teeth. He dropped his voice below the range of human hearing so only Carlisle could hear him. "But the villagers are already suspicious about us because of the colour of our eyes. If they find out we found a man in the middle of a thunderstorm, it will only fuel the rumours."

Carlisle rolled his eyes. "We'll be out of here by tomorrow." He turned to Trey.

"Are you coming?" The red-eyed vampire just rolled his eyes and didn't reply.

Edward and Carlisle donned cloaks and walked out into the howling winds to meet the second brother, a man by the name of Andrew. The wind was raging, the lightning bright, and the thunder amplified in the ears of the vampires. Waves, like giants out of the sea, rose and smashed onto the beach only a few hundred metres in front of them. In the distance, Edward could see cliffs.

The rain pelted Carlisle's face as raised it and took in a deep breath. "Check to the south!" he roared over the wind to Andrew. "Edward, come with me and we'll go north." Andrew didn't argue, simply wrapping his cloak tighter around him as he turned and began heading to the forest that bordered the sand. As soon he was around the corner, Carlisle yelled to Edward.

"Come!" and began running at vampire speed towards the cliffs. Edward sprinted after Carlisle, reading his mind as he did so.

Carlisle had caught the scent of Andrew's brother in the forest, but from the cliffs he'd barely caught the scent of another human – this one female.

"But what would she be doing out here?" Edward murmured to himself. Carlisle, now a few kilometres from the foot of the cliff, suddenly sped up, but Edward came to a stop. "You won't make it in time," whispered Edward as he watched the figure dressed in white flowing cloth jump from the top of the cliffs.

Carlisle didn't make it in time, but he kept running, coming to a grinding halt only a few metres from the body. He smelt the blood but turned his head from the sight of the woman's mangled body on the rocks at the foot of the cliffs.

_There's nothing I can do for her now,_ thought Carlisle as he turned and began to walk at an excruciatingly slow pace away from the body. The thought did nothing to stop the guilt, as if he had pushed the woman from the cliff himself.

Then, in a single moment, the rain seemed to slow down, the wind cease, and the thunder was silent. And in that moment Carlisle heard it.

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

It was slow, and barely there at all.

A heartbeat.

Carlisle turned back at a sprint, and gently eased the disfigured body into his arms. The heartbeat seemed to slow and Carlisle turned back, running at break-neck speed to the hut. Edward, hearing Carlisle's thoughts, retreated into the forest. Carlisle knew that Edward might not be able to resist the smell of the human blood – Carlisle himself held his breath, not trusting his basic vampire instincts.

As he ran into the hut, Trey grinned at him. "Surely that's not dinner for me, Carlisle?"

Carlisle didn't reply to his jests. He laid the woman on the floor, and whispered, "Please."

Trey frowned. "I'm not sure there's much to change, Carlisle."

"Please, listen," begged Carlisle. Trey was silent, and heard the gentle _thump_.

But with a cold eye and a dark smile, Trey shook his head. "No. You do it."

Carlisle's eyes widened. "No. What if—"

Trey looked at him, his red eyes even more sinister in the darkness of the hut. "Then I suppose she stays like this."

Without a word Carlisle leaned forward and gently bit into the flesh of the woman. He began working around the body – licking and sealing the woman's many wounds with his venom. Eventually Trey helped and the two worked with a silent efficiently. When they finished, they leaned back. Carlisle's breathing was hitched, like a human's, and his face had a slightly pained expression, but he did not succumb to the thirst.

"Very good," approved Trey. "I don't know if she will survive though. It will be a very close call."

Carlisle did not reply, but picked up the woman and placed her in his own bed, and knelt down beside her, watching her. Her heartbeat did not stop, but Carlisle knew it would in three day's time.

*****

The brothers returned a few hours later but Andrew was so exhausted from the storm, and so relieved to find his brother alive, that he did not notice the extra visitor. Trey, Carlisle, Edward left at dawn, Carlisle carrying the woman protectively in his arms.

At the end of the woman's second day, Carlisle insisted they stop in the deeper forest, so they could satiate her thirst and explain what was happening once the change was complete. Trey reluctantly allowed the stop, knowing they couldn't stop near a human populace in case the woman, in the rage of her thirst, went crazy.

As the sun set Edward watched Carlisle tuck the woman into a makeshift bed on the forest floor. Carlisle spoke to the woman, explaining that it would all be over soon. Unlike Edward, the woman hadn't made a single sound or movement during the three days – in fact, the only reason they knew she was alive was because of the steady sound of her heartbeat.

"What do you think her name is?" Carlisle finally said softly as he looked at her face. She had a heart-shaped face and her hair was a caramel-brown shade. Edward looked at her for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know… the name—"

"Esme," cut in Carlisle. Edward quickly ran through the thoughts going through Carlisle's mind.

"You don't mean―"

"Yes. She's the sixteen-year-old child who's leg I fixed in that little fisherman's village, some years ago," said Carlisle, thinking. "But she was such a bright and happy girl then… what could've possibly happened… Edward?"

"Her mind is starting to think a little clearer. The pain is beginning to recede. She's forming rational thoughts," said Edward. Suddenly he stopped. "Carlisle—" He leaned forward, gently tearing a seam at the side of her dress.

"Edward!" yelled Carlisle, trying to snatch at Edward's hands, but Edward pointed. "Look." On the pale skin on her stomach, Carlisle could see the silver stretch marks, still fresh.

"She is—was—pregnant. Edward, what if she was still carrying the baby when—"

Edward shook his head. "The vampire venom would've killed the child, surely."

Carlisle winced, but stopped when he realised that the woman's heart had stopped, and her black eyes were wide open.

******

Esme's first rational thought is that the man with the blond hair and the golden eyes looks strangely familiar.

But it's the only rational thought in a horde of screams that come from the burning – the burning that has stopped in every area of body except for the throat.

Wordlessly the blond man points to the animal – is it a wild cat's carcass? Esme doesn't have time to register this as she falls onto the body of the beast, greedily drawing blood from the still warm flesh.

She drained three wild cat's bodies before she sat up. Her caramel hair, a few shades of brown darker than Edward's, cascaded over her shoulders, but Carlisle found himself watching her eyes. They were gold now, with dark flecks still in them.

Esme gasped. "What is… who… no… no!" she wailed. "What have you done to me?" she asked in a gentle but firm tone.

"Esme, you may not remember me… We…I… made you this way to save your life."

Suddenly Esme stops breathing, and she leans, gasping, clutching her throat.

"Why… why aren't the tears coming?" she asks the one named Carlisle.

"We cannot cry."

"My son…" is all Esme whispers. Suddenly she jumps to her feet, a snarl ripping from her throat, peering into the shadows.

"That is Edward," explains Carlisle, standing up slowly to pull her back down to her feet. "He is the one who got you your meals today."

Esme collapses back to her feet. Something seems to click.

"I didn't jump high enough," she whispered.

"Please," asked Carlisle in a tone of begging. "Why did you jump from that cliff?"

"It was… it was…" Esme strains back to remember through the dark haze of her human memories.

"I was married. To Charles Evenson. But he… he got angry sometimes and he would… he would hurt me…" whispered Esme, more to herself than Carlisle.

"And I was pregnant… a beautiful baby… but I lost him. I lost my boy, and there was nothing left for me here…"

"Esme," murmured Carlisle, reaching forward to place a hand on her shoulder. "The pain you must have felt…"

"No!" cried Esme, jumping back. "You don't understand. I lost my reason to fight. I lost my _son._" Her voice cracks on the last word, when suddenly a voice comes from the shadows.

"I understand," said Edward as he slowly walked forward into the clearing.

"I…I lost my mother," said Edward in a strange tone of voice that Carlisle had not ever heard him use.

But Esme's eyes were wide and staring. "My son," is all she says, and she opens her arms and Edward walks straight into them.

"_Mère_," whispered Edward, burying his head in her hair. Then he straightens, taking his mother's hand.

"This is Carlisle, my father," said Edward, and he takes Carlisle's hand, joining the two hands and stepping back. Esme looked up, almost shyly.

"You're wrong, Doctor Cullen. I never forgot you."

As Carlisle looked into the gentle eyes of Esme, he realised he'd just found something that he hadn't even realised he'd been looking for.

* * *

Esme would literally be the mother of my coven, and Carlisle the father. I say "my coven" because at that point, it still was – but I was blind, and I did not recognise the signs then: that Edward, Esme and Carlisle had formed exclusive emotional bonds that I had no part of. That would be when they would start to drift away, and to close off from me.

I changed my name regularly for 'administrative' purposes, even though the coven continued to call me Trey. I started to enjoy mingling with the humans – especially in high society. It gave me a chance to analyse my prey before choosing the most seductive, the most… succulent.

Esme, with her incredibly passionate nature, of course followed Carlisle's choice of diet.

After about twenty years, we were in my favourite city – Rome, in Italy. Only Edward, because of his ability, knew that as a human Italy was my country – but he never mentioned that, or the unpleasant details that unfolded after my own change.

The next one to be changed – Rosalie – was strange because neither Edward, or Esme, or even Carlisle asked me to change her.

I made the decision myself.

Rosalie was one of only two people I willfully chose to change.

For even I could not let such a display of bravery and courage go unnoticed.


	4. Chapter IV: The Rose

**AN: The following scene has violence and rape. If you want to skip this, stop reading at the stars ***** and start reading again at the stars *********

**Chapter IV**

**The Rose**

Like me, Carlisle, Edward and Esme soon began to enjoy human's company. However, the class of people that we liked tended to vary much. The "Cullens" [which was the last name used on all official documents] preferred visting theatres, plays and performances; Within a few decades, my tastes soon strayed to the back streets – easy pickings for a quick meal, usually a man off the streets who had no home anyway and would not be easily missed. But Roma was such a big city that missing people were a regularity without my help.

We stayed in Roma for nine years, which was rather unusual for me to stay in one spot for too long. Carlisle and Edward noticed this, but only Edward knew the truth – that Italy had been my country as a human.

I was on my way home after a hunt when I smelt the thick, heavy scent of fresh human blood. I had centuries of experience on resisting bloodlust and either way I had already drunk; but the mortal bleeding was losing a lot of blood, very quickly. I assumed that I had come across an easy dessert that I could clean up. I had no more thoughts in my head except that I would be going home with a particularly full stomach.

Little did I know, I would actually be going home with a new member for my coven.

* * *

Trey's senses led him down a particularly shadowy back alley. He heard her screams long before he saw the three men crowded around the young woman.

_I'll just have to take them all out_, thought Trey with a calculating mind. _I shouldn't play with my food but this is too good an opportunity to waste_. Trey listened and heard no humans in any of the alleys too close by.

In the pale moonlight Trey crept at a human's pace in the alley's wall's shadows until he was only feet away from the men.

But before Trey could strike, he heard a loud _thwack_ and one of the men growled, "_Si cagna!" _before striking her in the bridge of her nose. Fresh blood poured from her face, its scent testing Trey's endurance, but he was watching the woman.

She was beautiful, even by vampire standards. Long, wavy blonde hair, a beautiful body, and perfectly featured face. _What a waste,_ thought Trey, but he gave a small chuckle. That sounded like something Carlisle would say.

*************

The lead man gave more orders in Italian and his two cronies pinned the woman's arms down to the ground. She screamed again, kicking him, but he just laughed and ripped off the woman's dress, and he jumped forward, plunging into her. She screamed in a tortured voice, struggling against them - but the man just laughed and began to move against her, plunging deeper and deeper into her, until the blood pooled around her body.

************

_Sick mortals._ One of Trey's favourite pastimes was what he called "mind games" and what Edward called "torture" - but either way the killing itself was swift. Once the mortal died there was no more entertainment. But this was something else altogether.

A gargled cry came from the main rapist, and suddenly his body slagged onto the ground. In the moonlight Trey saw that the jugular had been ripped out of his throat. But how--?

The blonde-haired woman collapsed to the floor, her mouth dripping with red blood, and she promptly threw up on the ground in front of her.

One of the other men pulled back his leg, kicking her savagely in the gut. "_Vampyr!!!_" hissed the man as he went to kick her again.

Suddenly he, too, collapsed to the ground, but a new dark figure standing in his place. The woman's second assaulter tried to run, but Trey had snapped his neck before the man had taken two steps.

Trey ran back to the woman on the ground, who was lying in her own pool of blood and vomit.

_What a waste,_ Trey thought again.

"Why did you fight when you knew that they would've killed you anyway?" Trey murmured, but the woman's head was lax, sinking to the ground. He placed a hand on her forehead and brushed a strand of golden hair away from her forehead.

And then he almost subconsciously realised.

She was a fighter.

She knew she was going to die tonight.

But she wanted to bring one of them down with her.

Without stopping to consider the action, Trey leaned forward and plunged his fangs into her neck.

XxX

Carlisle had been with Trey the longest, and Edward had the ability to read minds – but both were astonished when they come home to find Trey nursing the ravaged body of a beautiful, blonde-haired woman.

"Trey, she looks like something out of nobility. You do realise that the disappearance of someone from a high family would be much more prone to—"

"Of course I realise that, Carlisle. Edward, tell him what happened. Esme? Nurse the woman." They were the normal brusque commands that Trey usually gave, but this time he withdrew to his room and would not emerge for three days.

Before the woman opened her eyes, however, Trey had asked Carlisle to go for a 'walk' with him.

"So you did not change her to be your mate?"

"No," Trey snapped.

They were both silent for awhile, before Carlisle spoke. "You never told us why you changed her. Edward knows but he has the courtesy to keep it to himself."

Trey let out a low growl. "To be honest, I don't know why I did either. She…she did what I like to think _I _do. Keep fighting, to the end, even when there's nothing left to fight for." Trey exhaled.

"It doesn't matter. What's done is done. She will be beautiful though, and perhaps she will make a good mate for Edward." When the men arrived back at their house, the woman was awake, already feasting on two bullocks that Esme had freshly slain for her. Once her thirst was satiated, she looked up at them all with wide eyes.

"_Para inglese_?" asked Carlisle in his perfect Italian.

"_Si, _I speak a little English," she stumbled in a heavily accented English.

"You are _vampyra_ now. I am your creator, but you may call me Trey," Trey cut in shortly, but that was all he said. As Carlisle introduced the members of the coven, Trey sat down next to the woman and took his hand in hers and spoke to her in Italian.

"_Come si chiama_, child?" She hesitated before answering, and suddenly then Trey realised something. She reminded him of someone he had known, long ago.

"_Mi chiamo _Rosalie."

* * *

Rosalie Hale did not become the mate of Edward. She was, however, the most beautiful vampire that I had ever seen – and considering my travels, this was substantial. I grew rather fond of Rosalie – it was not emotion, but a healthy respect. She was quite tenacious, and grew to love cars, music and clothes… and yet she hated me, for the life I had cursed on her. Given her way, she would have died that night, instead of being cursed to this life – like many girls she wanted the fairytale: to marry to someone who loved her, and to bear and raise her children, and finally to grow old and be put to a final rest. Because I changed her, this would never be possible. However, I never regretted my decision to create her.

Thankfully, two years later, something would come along that would soften her complete loathing for the life of a _vampyra_… or more accurately, some_one_ would come along.

**AN: This was one of my favourite chapters to write :) I've had this story on my computer for aaagggeeeesss, but I struck writer's block and didn't think it fair to put it up until after I got over that, but I have and here you go :) Next chapter will be up very soon, I promise!!! BTW any mistakes when it comes to language and/or translations stand to be corrected, as for most of my sources I only had the internet. If you can help me out, it would be much appreciated :)**

**Love,**

**Lena xo**


	5. Chapter V: The Knight

Chapter V: The Knight

Rosalie was, in many ways, the most enigmatic and the most shallow of my coven. I liked to think that I understood those of my coven – Esme wanted nothing but to care for everyone, even humans; Carlisle wanted nothing to heal as if, in some strange way, the lives he saved repented for the ones that our kind destroyed; Edward was rather strange, often leaving our coven for weeks, even months at a time to travel by himself, although he always returned in the end.

Rosalie was shallow because she loved praise, which I freely gave her – she deserved it and though she did not tempt me, it was impossible to ignore her beauty. Carlisle praised came when he thought it was due and Esme was her confidante. Edward was another matter all together – the two had a hostile situation that was based on both her and Edward's clashing opinions of herself.

But what Rosalie wanted more than anything was a child, and I did not realise until later exactly how desperate she wanted one – desperate enough to break laws that the Royal Family of the vampire world – or the closest thing we had to a royal family – had set down thousands of years ago.

And the one to stop her was a human.

* * *

His name was Henry.

Rosalie almost... smiled when she thought of him as she waited at the door. The cloak was wrapped tightly around her, casting her face in a shadow, even though the skies above were a deep grey – every now again the sunlight would find its way through the cloud, casting patches of gold on the ground.

Sunlight that could reveal Rosalie for who she truly was.

The door was unlocked and Rosalie's nose instinctively wrinkled at the sharp smell of dirt and grime. A servant girl took one look at her, blanched, and disappeared, muttering "Простите." Rosalie knew enough Russian to realise that she was fetching the matron.

Funny, how the commoners were scared to mingle with the rich.

And how the prey were scared to mingle with the predator.

The woman who came was portly and her skin was wrapped in layers of clothes – jackets, undergarments and a thick woollen cape. She looked disgruntled, but upon seeing who it was, her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Добрый вечер, мадам _Rosalie_. Как дела?" she said, making small talk as Rosalie followed her through a long, dark passageway.

"Хорошо, спасибо," Rosalie answered politely. They turned into the main playroom of the building where hundreds of children between the ages of zero and twelve were playing – after twelve, they were sent away from the orphanage to be employed as cheap labour by companies.

But Rosalie scanned the room, her eyes immediately finding the little boy in the corner.

"Спасибо," thanked Rosalie, her eyes still trained on the child as she slipped a small jewel, a mere trinket when compared to the Cullen fortune, to the matron.

"Не за что," replied the woman, her eyes brightening as her grubby hand closed over the object, that would ensure Rosalie's time with little Henry remained undisrupted.

"мать!" cried Henry, a broad smile growing on the pudgy little face of the boy. The dimples indented his cheeks, and Rosalie's own smile grew as she stroked the soft, dark curly hair of the little boy. This was the little ray of sunshine in Rosalie's existence, and the reason she had come back to this orphanage everyday for the past 6 months.

And yet the warm rush was there – the same happiness that always came whenever he called her _Mother_.

As the little boy crept into the arms of the only woman who had every shown him love, he didn't realise that the look on Rosalie's face, as she watched him, was calculating. Trey planned to leave Vienna soon, and the streets were a cold place for a child, for an orphan. Rosalie couldn't leave him. Plans begin to form in her head – plans that she knew were impossible, but they had to work. She could take him with her. A human child living with a coven of vampires was unheard of but as if our coven was normal, thought Rosalie bemusedly. Vegetarians, for one thing. And they were more of a family than a coven in all honestly.

But, realised Rosalie in a cold shock, this little package of warmth in her eyes who was tugging curiously at her blonde locks and at the beads on her necklace, he would one day _die._ He would be nothing but dust.

The thought chilled Rosalie to the core. Until she realised--

It didn't have to be like that.

There was something that Rosalie could do to keep Henry with her forever.

XxX

The man behind the desk looked slightly disgruntled. "You paying now," stumbled the man in his thick accent. Trey sighed. This was the most expensive hotel that acutally _had_ someone who spoke English.

Albeit very badly.

"No. Tomorrow," Trey said slowly. He did not like Russia, and only now, after half a year, had he managed to persuade the coven to finally move.

_Somewhere... warmer_, he mused. _Like Egypt._ _I never want to see snow in summer again._

"You paying now," repeated the man.

"_Later_," Trey repeated, allowing just an edge of hostility into the word. The man's eyes widened slightly, then he frowned in thought – but finally he reluctantly nodded.

Across the foyer a beautiful blonde woman wearing a heavy dark cloak tried to cross the room without anyone noticing.

"Rosalie," said Trey without turning. "Would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me on an evening stroll?" He held out his arm, black eyes glinting as he watched her – Rosalie's lips pursed, but she obediently linked her arm in Trey's as they walked outside.

Neither of them could feel the cold wind of the Russian summer biting into their cheeks, or the wet snowflakes that drifted from the sky onto their clothes – but Rosalie, now without a hood covering her head, was slightly annoyed as she brushed the snow from her hair.

"So..." she started. "So you're absolutely sure that--"

Trey was gazing into the distance. "Absolutely. I don't want to stay another day in Russia. We're leaving in the morning."

Rosalie paused, trying to choose her next words carefully. "What if... well, is there any way we could stay a little longer?" She could hear the pleading tones in her voice.

Trey moved his gaze from the horizon to her face.

"You must not do it, Rosalie."

Rosalie tensed, pulling her arm out from Trey's.

"Must not what?" But she knew that he knew. He knew everything.

"It is illegal to create an immortal child. And you would not have the self control anyway." His voice grew dark. "You would suck his small little body dry."

Her eyes flashed, now angry. "I wouldn't! I have the control! I have for a year now!"

Trey chuckled. "Please, at two years you are little over a newborn. Unless..." his face changed as he realised the possibility. "You were going to take him to _me_ to create?"

She didn't reply.

Trey chuckled again. "Perhaps, for you, Rosalie. But it is illegal. The Royal Family would not be pleased if they heard that I had created an immortal child. I can hardly draw attention to myself, and you know why."

"You killed the people of that town over two decades ago, and they have done nothing."

Trey sighed again, looking back out to the sunlight.

"It's impossible to describe. To them centuries are just the blink of an eye... they have the power to do whatever they want and to prosecute whoever they want, but they only choose those who break the vampire law."

"You're already drawing attention to yourself," said Rosalie quietly.

Trey's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

"How big is their coven?"

Trey blinked. "Smaller than ours..." The look on his face was suddenly calculating.

"So... another member won't compromise it?"

Trey growled. "Rosalie. Having a coven of vampires and having an _immortal child_ is a different matter together. And you're being very selfish, risking the lives of Carlisle, Esme and Edward."

Rosalie winced, then her face was composed. "Carlisle will support me in whatever decision I make."

"That might be true," said Trey with a smile – he had regained his good humour back. Or rather, his sense of humour.

"But would you honestly choose to curse the child with our life?"

He turned then, and left her alone and speechless in the middle of the street.

XxX

"Mother!" cried Henry as Rosalie smiled, scooping the little boy into her arms – being as careful as if he were made of glass.

"Henry, my dear," she sighed, laying her cold stone cheek against his soft, warm one. She could feel the heat from his blood as it pumped through the veins of his skin, but it did not tempt her – just gave her a strange sense of comfort.

She heard a voices from behind her – a woman and a man speaking to the matron, although the couple's Russian was awkward. As they came into the room Henry was suddenly struggling against Rosalie's arms.

"Mama," he repeated and the woman's face broke into a smile.

"Henry, my boy..." she said, but she stopped when she saw Rosalie.

Rosalie's face showed shock – then anger – then sadness.

"You speak English?" Rosalie coldly asked woman. She nodded, still watching Henry, and Rosalie reluctantly let him go. Henry toddled straight into the woman's arms.

"I... I have to go..." said Rosalie. She was in shock and wanted to get out and --- she didn't know. Cry, perhaps, if she still could. But a little voice stopped her.

"Mother!" cried little Henry, and Rose couldn't help but turn back. His little arms were outstretched, and as if against her will Rose knelt in front of the woman and took Henry's little hands in hers. He smiled and began laughing, garbling to himself, which consisted of the words "Mother" and "Mama" a lot.

Rosalie smiled slowly and the woman laughed.

"It seems he wants us both. I'm Vera," she said politely.

"Rose," Rosalie replied. Vera was a slightly plump woman with a hand-me-down dress and brown curly hair, but her smile was genuine. Rosalie's eyes flickered to the man, who was still talking to the matron.

"My husband," said Vera in answer to Rosalie's glance. At that moment Henry struggled out of Vera's lap and into Rosalie's, tugging at her blonde curls. The two women laughed, strangely bonded by this little boy with brown curly hair and dimples.

"We are leaving tomorrow," said Rosalie, suddenly unsure of why she was confiding in this stranger. It should be safe as long as she kept it vague. "I came... for a good-bye, but I was going to adopt him."

"So was I," said Vera sadly. "My husband and I, we--" suddenly her mouth snapped shut and she looked remorseful.

"It's a long story," she whispered. In Rosalie's lap Henry entwined one hand in Rosalie's curls, and stretched out another to play with the shawl wrapped around Vera.

"I have time," said Rosalie gently, curious but not wanting to prod Vera.

"I...I have a... condition," murmured Vera. "I cannot conceive."

Rosalie smiled sadly. "Neither can I."

Vera looked up, a surprised look crossing her face – then she smiled.

"We are the same, then, you and I. But I have caused great shame to my family in law," said Vera sadly. "So my husband... came up with a plan... We left our home and travelled somewhere far away for awhile...and when we came back we would break the news: my condition was not genuine, I could conceive, and I had the proof with me," she finally finished, looking at the child.

"But I have spoken long enough. What of you?" asked Vera, and Rosalie stroked the soft cheek of Henry.

"Ah... I have no husband. But I wish greatly for a child, so much," whispered Rosalie. "However, my... grandfather..." - that was probably the best way to refer to Trey in this story - "...is the head of our family and he disapproves heavily of me adopting. I was going to, without his permission," Rosalie finally confessed. Vera smiled sadly.

"You can't chose your family," Vera agreed. A throat was being cleared then, and Vera's husband was standing over her.

"Everything's been arranged," he said to his wife, and he leaned down and softly kissed her on the mouth. In that moment, it flared.

Pure jealousy.

When Henry had called for Vera, she had felt betrayal; now she was just envious. Rosalie disentangled Henry's hand from her hair and she stood back, surveying the scene – the mother, Vera, the loving husband, and the child Henry.

"I...I have to go now," Rosalie managed to say, sure she would've been crying now if she could.

Vera nodded. "Of course. Thankyou, for our talk."

Rosalie just smiled back sadly before leaving.

XxX

She looked at the ground. "You were right," she finally mumbled. Trey just appraised her with a raised eyebrow.

"If I... created him... he would have that life taken away from him, his _human _life. She can give him everything I can't," Rosalie finally choked. "A loving home, and he would grow up a normal human and he would have a family and he would die a human. That's how it's supposed to be." Rosalie watched Trey with begging eyes.

"And why did you come to me with this again?" asked Trey as he turned his head back to his book. Rose laughed bitterly.

"Because you are the only one who knows of my... weakness," she muttered. "About the choice I could've made."

"Besides Edward," said Trey pointedly. Again Rosalie laughed bitterly. "He doesn't count."

Trey shrugged. "You made the right choice Rosalie. We are the immortal, but there are prices to be paid."

"And I had no choice to begin with. No one asked me if I _wanted_ that immortality," said Rosalie bitterly, looking down at Trey with renewed contempt. Trey didn't look at her. "It was immortality or being six feet under."

Rosalie's hands clenched tightly, and she looked down. Trey noticed her silence and looked up into her eyes – they were a dead black.

"When's the last time you drank?"

"I don't know," she muttered back. Trey went back to his book, quickly becoming engrossed.

"Go and hunt now. Be back before dawn. We'll be leaving then."

When he looked up again, she was gone.

XxX

She was in the snow-covered forest, her fangs dug deep into the skin of a young buck as she drained him thoroughly, listening to his heart rate speed up, then slowly fade to a final stop. She stood up, wiping her mouth, and re-checking her outfit – not a hair out of place.

Then she heard the growl behind her.

She turned to see the huge brown bear rearing up at her, blood drizzling from it's muzzle. She crouched, her face serious – she did not take down three deer to have some animal mess up her clothes.

She never got the chance

A loud _BANG_ went off and the bear began howling – Rosalie saw a piece of metal embedded in its side, but it only seemed to aggravate the animal. It growled and groaned and flailed, its eyes wide and bloodshot now.

"Stay back, lady!" yelled a man in Russian.

Rosalie growled under her breath. "Meddling human," she whispered. He was rather large and well-built for a human – although it may have just been the numerous layers of clothes wrapped around him. In his hand he held a long implement – a rifle, remembered Rosalie. Carlisle hated the idea – he predicted that these new weapons would only become more advanced and be used to start wars. But this man was pointing his at the bear and trying to reload it.

"Run!" he yelled to Rosalie, but she just stood frozen on the spot as she watched the bear come towards the man. If she attacked the bear and saved his life, the man would figure out who he was. If she didn't, he would die.

She closed her eyes. She had to choose the latter.

She heard him scream and her eyes flashed open despite herself. He was on the ground, the bear above him, the gun a few feet away in the snow. Without thinking about it, Rosalie ran and grabbed the gun, efficiently reloading it from what theoretical knowledge she had of guns.

Her arms were shaking as she held the gun to her shoulder. This might not work, was her last thought. Then she closed one eye, aimed at the bear's head and pulled the trigger.

The bear groaned in pain, then turned and ran into the forest.

Rosalie dropped the gun and ran to the man in the snow, her face wrinkling as she fought back the lust for the blood patterned on the snow around him. His breathing was rattling and blood was allover his torso.

_He'd lost too much. I let him die,_ realised Rosalie. _It's my fault_.

With shaking fingers she pulled the ushanka from his head.

And felt like if she did have a heart, it would've stopped just then.

The man was struggling to sit up and look at her. He was half-squinting and wincing, as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

But most importantly of all, he had brown curly hair and she could see dimples in his cheeks. Just like Henry's.

Rosalie stared at the man, and it took her a moment to register the venom building up in her mouth. _Shoot_, she thought, trying not to breathe in.

She took a last look at the dimples, and she knew what she had to do.

* * *

She scooped Emmett McCarty up into her arms and took him to me. And at her request I created him.

I suppose the best way to describe Emmett himself is the word 'bear'. He was particularly strong, even for a new born and retained most of that strength after his first year. He was ferocious and loved picking fights, but he was also a teddy bear. Under the shining armour he was surprisingly emotional and sensitive, especially when it came to Rose. I suppose it was no surprise that they would become mates, nor that he would choose to adopt Carlisle's way of living.

We would end up moving to Persia, because although I would have preferred Egypt for the rest of my coven there was no animals for them to hunt there. At that time Edward was my main companion – the rest tended to 'couple off' and we both agreed that it could be awkward at the best of times.

What Rosalie had said about the coven's size irked me though. She was right – we were now more than twice the size of the Royal Family's true coven – their three warriors, or leaders. We numbered six now, and had gifts – like Edward's mind-reading, Emmett's strength, my own gift – that would easily usurp their own. In theory we could have taken them over.

In reality, persuading them to attack the Royal Family was like trying to push Briton a few more metres east.

But I did not truly begin to entertain the notion of any sort of rebellion until we met the next one to join my coven. He was the only one who I would not create. His name was Jasper.

**AN: Andddd it's back. After much emotional stress and having my brains beat out with a four hundred page maths book, the holidays are finally here!! That means updating as fast as I can type these things :) I'm really excited about this story 'cos it's a little different, but has a lot of potential...**

**This story's finally uploaded right -.- it took a while but yes, every thing's ok again now, I think.**

**Keep an eye out for me,**

**Lena xo**

**PS: I tried to write Russian phonetically but it didn't exactly work out... lol again if you have anything to say about the translations, the help would honestly be appreciated :)**


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